My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. It wasn’t as pitch black as I’d thought at first. A faint yellow light came in from a streetlight outside, giving an eerie glow to the room.
I peered around me. This wasn’t a room as much as a storage closet. There was a narrow wooden door ten feet from me, and on the other side of this door, someone was sitting and eating.
Along the walls of this room were sacks stacked on top of each other. There was a shelf in a corner, filled with tin cans and small plastic packets of flour, or something that looked like flour. It smelled musty in here, like a rice cellar, but with a trace of a chemical stink. At my feet was the rusty iron bar from the window which had fallen down with me. I reached down and picked it up.
I stood up to inspect the room better.
Near the shelf in the corner was a lone wooden chair. Draped casually over it was a black cloth, like a cloak or a super-sized towel.
It took me a few seconds to realize it was the midnight-black robe of the woman I’d seen in the square.
Chapter Thirteen
“You took my cake?”
The voice was so loud, that for one frightening moment, I thought someone was inside the storage room with me.
It was a man’s voice speaking in English. It was rough and guttural, an accent that came from somewhere in the Middle East, just like the woman in the black robe.
I tiptoed toward the corner shelf, making sure my anklet didn’t jingle, and crouched between the chair and the shelf. It was the only place to hide if anyone walked in, not that I’d stay hidden for long behind that flimsy piece of furniture.
“Leave me alone, man. I’m hungry.” It was the voice of another man, high-pitched. I imagined a tall and skinny man, with a taut face. “I work all day. What you do?” His accent sounded like the redhead’s, from Eastern Europe or thereabouts.
“Me?” The first man sounded astonished. “What I do today?”
“Ya, you.” The Eastern European man sounded amused.
“Who did important work today? Huh?” The first man sounded indignant. “Tell me that?”
“C’mon, picking new girls super easy,” the second man said.
New girls? I sat up.
“Who went all way cross town, huh?” The first man asked. That was when I noticed how slurred his voice was. “Who risk life, huh? If police saw, I finished now. Cameras everywhere in airport. You t’ink I not work today? And now you took my fucking cake.”
Airport? He’s talking about Katy!
“Calm the fuck down, man. Look, more cake in fridge. Anyway, it’s you who’s working for American,” the other man said. “This shit is dangerous.”
American? Does he mean Jose?
“Bizness with Americans is always good money. I hate their guts, I tell you, but they good for bizness. You got no head, Vlad. We lucky to get dat call.”
I heard a fridge door open and slam shut.
“Lucky?” the other man, Vlad, sniffed. “Jeez, you believe any shit.”
“He pay good money.”
“For two girls,” the second man said. “Won’t pay till you find second. Just see how much luck you have then. Haha!”
I felt the hair on my neck stand on end.
“You better appreciate I found one girl,” the first man growled. “Second girl not interesting. Red hairs make lot more money than darkies.”
A cold shiver ran through me.
“That redhead’s enough trouble, I tell ya,” Vlad said. “Why you agree to pick this old hag?”
Old hag? Maybe it’s not Katy, then?
“American girls always trouble,” Vlad continued. “Next time, try Asians. Thai, Burma, Laos. Get ’em young. Boom. Cash cows.”
The first man grunted. The sounds of drawers opening and banging shut and dishes clanking came from the other room.
“Win was good idea,” Vlad was saying. “She was ten. Perfect for job. I say go for twelve, tops. Easy to shut up and they stay quiet.”
Oh god, they’re talking about children.
“Wait till I get cash from American,” the first man growled. “Then you see who’s laughing.”
“You just bought whole load of trouble,” Vlad said. “Screeching and scratching like a dying cat, and no one even touch her.”
I felt a huge relief wash over me. If Katy’s here somewhere, she’s not hurt. Not yet, anyway. I looked up at the ceiling and said silently, Keep fighting, Katy. I’m going to find you soon.
“You jus’ don’ know how to handle girls,” the first man was saying. “Me, I know how to control. Beat till they forget their name. Dat’s how.”
“Right,” Vlad said. “You done great job so far.”
“You t’ink I went to all dat trouble so she work here?” the first man said. “I got brains, I tell you. I thought this hard. First, American pay me to find her. Then, I sell her for good profit. Ahmed always looking for girls. I make money both ways. Who’s the smart guy now, huh?”
A door opened, silencing both men.
“Allo.” A new voice. Someone younger. A teen? A boy?
“You early, Luc,” Vlad said.
“Oooh, cake! Can I have some?”
“Look in fridge,” Vlad said in an irritated voice.
“Where’s Tetyana?” the young man asked.
“Upstairs, counting her money as usual, the mad witch,” the second man said. “So you get what you look for?”
“Oui. It’s been a good day for business today,” the young man said. He sounded like one of my French teachers in the international schools of long ago, with the same nasal voice, and his words strung together quickly, one after the other. “Look what I got.”
The first man clucked his tongue and Vlad oohed over whatever Luc was showing them.
“Latest version,” the young man said, “not even out in the shops yet.”
“How much?” the first man asked. “You waste good cash on stupid toys.”
“C’mon, I deserve it,” the young man said. “I work hard, and it was my birthday last week.”
“Let boy keep it,” Vlad said. “Hey, can you get for me too, Luc?”
“Sure,” Luc said. “You want one too, Zero?”
“You buy this from selling your filth,” the first man growled. “Don’t want dat shit in my house.”
“Shit?” the young man said, his voice rising a notch. “I make good money from this shit, I’ll let you know. Enough to pay for your trucks. Talk about filth. You think this house is clean, man? You got girls coming in and out like a—”
“Shut your mouth or I slice it,” the first man snapped. “Don’t talk back to me, boy.”
A shiver went through me.
“Don’t listen to him,” Vlad said. “Always saying he’ll kill everybody. That’s why fire is burning in Middle East all the time. Don’t know how to keep their heads, these people.”
“And you Polish are Russia’s whores!” roared the first man, and promptly fell into a rough gagging-coughing fit.
“See what happens when you lose head,” Vlad said, not seeming to take offense. “Boy got good point, you know. You know how much this business can bring us?”
“No!” The first man had found his voice again. “I only do girls. And boys when customer want, but I don’t touch dis shit. Work of Satan. You end up in hell with dis!”
“And you won’t?” Luc, the young man said. His tone was mocking. “I think you’re only saying that so you can steal my stuff. I noticed some packets missing this morning.”
“Do I look like thief, boy!” the first man yelled. Bang! I jumped. Someone had slammed a table or hit the wall.
I was only half listening to this cacophony. The other part of my brain was furiously trying to think of how to get upstairs and see where Katy was imprisoned. The front door was locked. The only way inside was through the small wooden door I was staring at, behind which a mad hatters’ cake party was going on.
“What happens when they catch you, huh? Whatcha gonna do
then?” the first man was saying.
“You got the same problem,” the younger man pointed out. “Worse, actually.”
“Not me,” the first man said. “Belgium royals my best customers.”
“You think that cover you?” Vlad asked. “You play with fire, I tell you. They’ll fucking feed you with bullets. You and all of us, just to make point.”
“Merde! The girls all hate you,” Luc joined in. “You think they’ll keep their mouths shut? They’ll talk. Then you’ll see.”
“You born idiot, boy,” the first man said. “My bitches do as I tell ’em or cops be pulling their bodies from river. And if you t’ink I help you when they catch you, you wrong. I put first bullet right through your goddammed head.”
I clutched my iron bar tighter. Something in his voice told me these weren’t empty threats.
Suddenly, there was a crash, as if someone banged open a door. Everyone stopped talking.
“What the hell happened!”
It was a woman’s angry voice, a voice I’d heard before.
“Allo, Tetyana,” the young man said. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? You want to know what’s up?” she shouted. “What the frigging hell happened to Win?”
I gasped.
“Stop screaming, woman. My head hurt,” Vlad said.
“Who did this to her? Tell me!” she demanded. “Zero, is this your dirty handiwork?”
I leaned in. I was sure now it was the redhead I’d met earlier.
“Not me. It was client,” the first man said without a moment’s hesitation. His voice was calm but slimy. “I try stop him, but he got real mad. He want more and she tired. But I save her, you know, and bought her home good. Hey, I did my job.”
What?
“You said they won’t get hurt!” The woman, Tetyana, sounded furious. “You promised me!”
“She not dead, right?” Vlad said, in a mocking voice. “You got lot to learn, woman. You know nothing about our business.”
“I didn’t sign up for this!” the woman said. “No one hits these girls! We had an agreement.”
“Oh, no, we don’t.” It was the first man’s voice, so low and dangerous, I wanted to take a step back. “I don’t make agreement with any woman. She belong to me, not you.”
“It is my business!” the woman shouted. “When you beat up a girl, it’s my frigging business! How dare you lay your hands on her! She’s just a child for god’s sake!”
“Shut up, woman!” the first man shouted back, just as loudly.
A chair was scraped back.
“Enough!” the second man, Vlad, said. “You two keep pissing ’round.” He laughed an ugly, chilling laugh. “Zero thinks I don’t know to do my job, eh? I gonna show new girl how job is done. Haha!”
Crash!
That sound came from inside the storage room. Vlad’s ugly words had jerked me back and my elbow had pushed a small plastic packet off the shelf behind me. It had fallen with a thud but it was the tin cans next to it that had fallen to the tile floor, making a racket to wake the dead.
Silence in the next room.
I stopped breathing.
“What the heck that?” I heard Vlad say. “Where it come from?”
Please don’t come in. Please.
“Bordel de merde,” Luc said. “I saw a big rat outside today. Maybe it’s inside the house now.”
“You gotta be kidding,” said Vlad. “I hate those little bastards.”
“This is shit hole,” the first man said.
“They give rabies,” the young man said.
“We gotta do something!” the second man said, his voice rising even higher. “Luc, catch it, will you?”
I heard steps coming toward the door.
I looked around desperately, my heart beating wildly.
Chapter Fourteen
The storage room flooded with light.
Through an impossibly small opening, I gaped at a young man of about nineteen or twenty staring at me with one hand on the light switch. This must be Luc.
From what I’d overheard, I’d imagined a cocky teen in a hood, torn jeans and baseball cap worn backward. Instead, he was wearing a white shirt, a tie, and a smart bomber jacket—a mix of cute boy actor and bad boy biker. With his short brown hair, he looked like a charming model at a high-end department store, rather than a gangster on the street. I blinked twice.
The naked bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling gave off a feeble light. But right then, it felt like stadium floodlights were on me.
Next to Luc stood a man with a razor-thin scar along one cheek, wearing a black leather jacket and army boots. He was short and hefty with biceps the size of a miniature horse. I noticed his left hand was missing. All he had was a stub where his hand should have been.
He was the kind of man you’d find in a gambling den at four in the morning, smoking cigarettes from the side of his mouth and groping waitresses if they were unlucky to get too close—a man you’d not want to meet in a dark alley in the middle of the night. Or anywhere, at anytime, for that matter. This must be Vlad. His squeaky voice had been deceiving.
The redhead, Tetyana, was standing next to Vlad. It was the same young woman I’d seen in the square earlier, but this time, she’d removed her leather skirt and jacket and was wearing nothing more than her heels, red lace panties and bra, and a see-through mini kimono. I averted my eyes.
“Where’s the rat?” Vlad spat out.
I didn’t say anything, not because I shouldn’t speak but because I couldn’t. I was paralyzed with fear.
He frowned, scanning the room. “Running loose in here?”
“Who dat?” Pushing his way through this raggedy crowd was the scariest man of them all, the man who’d kidnapped Katy and kicked Win outside. I swallowed hard. Closer now, his hairy face was even more intimidating. This must be Zero.
He frowned at me. “What you do here?” he snapped. “I told you go to mosque!” His eyes shone like the devil lived inside him. I was sure he could kill with just one look. I drew back but didn’t say a word.
“What’s wrong, you?” he glared. “Lose voice, stupid woman?”
A micro-second earlier, I’d done the only thing I could think of.
I’d grabbed the black robe, and without knowing which way was up or down, I’d pulled it over my head. In my rush, I’d put it on crooked so I could barely see, and only from one eye. With all the noise I’d been making, they must have wondered if an elephant had been rampaging in the storage room. I now stood perfectly still, half-blind, trying to calm the rising terror inside me, wondering what I must look like from the outside.
“What about damn rat?” Vlad’s eyes darted anxiously around the room. “How I gonna sleep tonight with fat rat running around?”
Under the robe, I raised an arm deliberately and slowly and pointed to the furthest corner of the room. All three heads turned to look.
“It gone that way?” the man asked.
I nodded my head so they could see the movement. Underneath, a river of sweat was streaming down my back. My legs were trembling so hard, I was sure the world could hear my knees rattle.
“Jus’ one?” Vlad asked.
I nodded again.
“Hey, are you okay, Bibi? Ça va?” Luc asked, his face puzzled. Three sets of eyes turned away from searching for the non-existent rat and back to me.
I was trying not to hyperventilate, feeling like a chicken in a wolves’ den, knowing I could only keep up this charade for so long.
“Who the hell open window?” Zero asked, suddenly marching over to the small window I fell through. “Everyt’ing breaking here. Every time you find place, Vlad, it’s a pisshole.”
Vlad’s face went red. “I bust my ass to find good place and you call it pisshole?”
“This is worse than house you got in Paris. Do better!” Zero snapped right back.
“First you say I don’t know how to control girl. Then, you say I don’t know how to find p
lace?” Vlad shouted. “You know how hard is to find place where police don’t—”
“Shut up, both of you!” Tetyana said.
“You leave, if you don’t like!” Zero shouted at Vlad, ignoring the redhead.
“Boys!” Tetyana raised her voice. “Shut it, for frigging sake! Do you want to get attention? Do you want to attract the police here?”
The men stopped but glared at each other.
“Don’t know what the big deal is,” Luc said, leaning against the wall like this was just another Sunday afternoon conversation. “The front door can come down in seconds. One kick will do.”
“It called psy-cho-lo-gy.” Zero pronounced the word slowly, as if he’d just learned it. “Everyone know nobody can walk in like dat. Girls know they can’t go out. They behave. We gotta show we’re serious.”
“You take their passports and beat ’em up. Isn’t that enough psychology?” Luc said with a dry smirk.
“The plan was to make fast money, not attempt psychology,” Tetyana said, in a quiet voice, shaking her head.
I looked at her. Even with that see-through kimono and undies, she didn’t belong here. There was something strange about the way she held herself proudly and the fluency of her speech and language. She was nothing like the two goons here.
“What you doing here, anyway?” Zero asked, as if suddenly remembering my presence. He turned making me take an involuntary step back. “What you do in dark, huh?”
His frown deepened, darkening his already ugly face. He wasn’t someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of. I kept silent, trying to stop the panic attack from overcoming me. My brain raced, trying to think of what to do next. Run out? But where? Maybe a coughing fit? They’ll know it’s not her.
“I know what you’re up to.” Luc said standing straight and giving me a dirty look. “There’s no rats in here. I know what you’re doing.”
My heart skipped a beat. Does he know who I am?
He took a step forward and pointed an accusing finger at me. “It’s you who’s been stealing my stuff, isn’t it?”
The Girl Who Made Them Pay Page 6